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GARDEN ADVENTURES OF 


TOMMY 

TITTLEMOUSE 



Page 53 

"'What are you going to do this winter. Tommy?" asked Billy Robin 


/ 

GARDEN ADVENTURES OF 

TOMMY 

TITTLEMOUSE 

By V 

CLARA (jNGRAM) JUDSON ^ 

Author of “Billy Robin and His Neighbors” 
and “Foxy Squirrel in the Garden” 


J 

Pictures by . 
FRANCES BEEm/ 



RAND MCNALLY & COMPANY 


CHICAGO 


NEW YORK 


Copyright, 1922, by 
Rand M9Nally & Company V 





Made in U. S. A. 


OCT -7 72'^ 



©Cl A683577(L 


THE CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Tommy’s Visitors 7 

Twilight in the Garden .19 

Tommy Meets the Teeny-tiny Ants 30 

Is Mr. Garden Toad Really Lazy? 41 

Plans for the Winter 53 



“Fcm, that's what you're getting, Tommy," laughed his little mate 



GARDEN ADVENTURES OF 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


TOMMY’S VISITORS 

OMMY TITTLEMOUSE stood at the door of 



his home and looked out over the garden he had 
learned to love. The grass was deep green and closely 
cut. The walks were neat and trim. Along the border 
the nasturtiums sprawled gaily, and close by, the pan- 
sies lifted up a crowd of faces as though they were 
saying, '‘We’re having a good time. Are you?” 

Over by the osage orange hedge Foxy Squirrel, who 
was usually an early riser, was comfortably nibbling 
his breakfast of green shoots while Mrs. Foxy set the 
house in order; and from the vegetable garden came 
sounds of the early morning chat Billy Robin and 
Chirpy Sparrow always enjoyed. 

"Isn’t this the nicest place!” exclaimed Tommy, 
with a sigh of real happiness. "Just imagine our ever 
having lived in a cellar!” 

"Cellar!” said Foxy, who was near enough to hear 
Tommy’s remark in the early stillness of the garden. 


7 


8 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


“Cellar! Imagine my ever living in the woods! And 
we just happened to find this garden, we did!’' 

Mrs. Tommy came to the door just then to listen. 

“What shall we do today, Tommy?” she asked. 
“Are you hungry?” 

“Well,” replied Tommy thoughtfully, “I suppose I 
am. But really. I’ve had such good eating these days 
that I’m sure I never again could be as hungry as I 
used to be when we lived in the cellar. I believe I’m 
getting fat! I really do.” 

“Vain, that’s what you’re getting. Tommy,” laughed 
his little mate teasingly. “You’re as vain as Billy — 
and you know what a primper he is.” 

Tommy twirled the few hairs of his mustache styl- 
ishly and curled his tail to a becoming angle. Mrs. 
Tommy had guessed pretty close to the truth. He 
was getting a bit vain and he was quite a little dandy, 
always being so particular to be brushed and tidy. But 
he knew perfectly well that Mrs. Tommy liked it even 
though she did tease. She wouldn’t for anything go 
back to the days of hunger and misery in the dark, 
cold cellar. 

“He’s a good friend of ours, I know that,” replied 
Tommy. “And how about yourself? Are you hungry 
this morning?” 


TOMMTS VISITORS 


9 



*'You remember what Mrs. Hen told us, Tommy" 


“I can't say that I am," replied Mrs. Tommy, '‘but 
then, I may be after a while. I usually am, you know. 
And so are you." 

"Then what do you want to do?" asked Tommy, for 
he could tell very well by her talk and actions that 
Mrs. Tommy had some plan in her mind. 

"You remember what Mrs. Hen, in the chicken 
yard over across the alley, told us," she said, and Tommy 
nodded. 

Who could forget that Mrs. Hen, the nice motherly 
person that she was, had invited them to come over 


10 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


and eat corn out of the chicken house? She had said 
there was plenty, all ready to eat, and that a person 
would n’t have to think of a thing but keeping out of 
sight and eating — and for a mouse those two things 
were as easy as anything. 

'‘I can’t believe Mrs. Hen knows what she is talking 
about,” said Mrs. Tommy doubtfully, 'Tor it sounds 
far too good to be true — com all stacked up ready to 
eat! But then, she may be right. You never can tell. 
So I thought while we were n’t very hungry, we might 
mn over there and see.” 

"Good idea,” said Tommy. "It won’t take us more 
than a morning to go over and see her home. And we 
have nothing we must do this morning. Let’s go.” 

Mrs. Tommy quickly said, "Yes, let’s.” 

So off they scampered as far as the pansy bed, their 
first hiding place on the long journey to Mrs. Hen’s 
home. 

There they hid, quiet and silent as the pansy faces 
themselves, for several minutes. And nothing happened. 

"I think we can go on now, don’t you. Tommy?” 
whispered Mrs. Tommy softly. 

Tommy stuck his sharp little nose and his two beady 
black eyes out from behind three big white pansy blossoms 
and looked around. He looked up in the sky — not a 


TOMMTS VISITORS 


11 



The Tittlemice dashed across the lawn 


hawk did he see. He looked around the tree tops — 
just as he hoped, Old Man Owl was asleep for the 
day. He looked at the house and across the lawn — 
nowhere was there a sign of the house cat, his worst 
enemy. 

Then, after being so very careful. Tommy replied, 
‘‘Everything seems safe. Let’s go.” 

So, keeping close to the pansies as long as they could 
they dashed across the lawn to the big zinnia bed. And 
there they waited again and listened and were careful 
before they ventured on to the cosmos bed halfway 
down the garden. 


12 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 



**Well, well” she cackled cheerfully, ”here you are at last!” 


With all that hiding and watching it's no wonder the 
journey to the alley took a good long time. But it 
was time well spent. Tommy had no wish to be 
reckless and run into danger in his beautiful garden, 
not he. 

But finally they reached the alley, and there Tommy 
was nearly tempted to turn back. For it’s one thing 
to run a long way in a garden set full of flower beds 
where a mouse may hide, and it’s quite another thing 
to run across a bare, gravelly alley where there is n’t 
one single scrap of shelter. 


TOMMTS VISITORS 


13 


‘‘But, Tommy,'’ objected Mrs. Tommy when her 
mate hesitated, “surely nothing will hurt us, and you 
remember what Mrs. Hen said about that good corn." 

Tommy did remember. And by this time he was 
getting pretty hungry. So, being as brave as brave 
could be, he whispered, “All right, let's run for it!" 
And across that wide, open alley he dashed, with Mrs. 
Tommy only a tail length behind. 

And of course nothing happened to them, nothing. 

They crept into the woodshed, across the piles of 
logs, and there they hid till Mrs. Hen's pleasant cackle 
reminded them that she was very near. 

Fortunately for the mice, one of Mrs. Hen's family 
peeped into the woodshed and she came in to scold. 

“Haven't I told you many times to stay out of this 
shed unless I'm along?" she demanded of Yellow Chick. 
“How would a youngster like you know how to watch 
out for rats or weasles. I'd like to know! Come right 
outside this minute, now, where I can watch you." 

And then she spied Tommy peeking around the end 
of a log. 

“Well, well, well," she cackled cheerfully, “here you 
are at last! I began to think you never were coming. 
Now just go across the yard and into the hen house and 
help yourself to com. It isn't far— right over there." 


14 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


So, guided by her pointing wing, the two little mice 
landed safely in the chicken house. And there such 
food as they did find! Corn, stacks of corn, all piled 
up ready to eat. Tommy was so excited that he took a 
nibble here and a nibble there and a nibble, nibble, 
nibble almost everywhere. 

Not so Mrs. Tommy. She carefully looked the pile 
over and picked out the biggest, fattest, yellowest ear 
and then sat down by it and began to eat in comfort. 

And there those two mice stayed and ate and ate 
and ate. 

Along in the early afternoon Mrs. Tommy said, 
‘‘Well, Tommy, Tm afraid to eat any more just now 
for fear Til burst my skin. I really don’t feel a bit 
hungry. I seem to have lost all appetite. I think 
ril take a nap.” 

But Tommy didn’t reply. He was fast asleep in a 
warm little hollow under the great pile of com. 

Later in the day, when the sun was tossing rose-colored 
beams into Mrs. Spider’s web and when Billy Robin 
was finishing the last bit of dessert after his afternoon 
tea. Tommy and his little mate woke up, both at the 
same time. 

“Well, this is a funny place,” whispered Tommy in 
surprise. “Where are we?” 



Such food cs they did find! Corn, stacks of corn all piled up 
ready to eat 


16 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


Mrs. Tommy smoothed her tail, rubbed her well-filled 
pouch, and remembered. 

‘'We're in the corn crib over in Mrs. Hen's yard, don't 
you remember?" she said. 

“So we are, so we are," replied Tommy. “I think 
it's about time we went home, I don't seem to be 
worrying about getting any supper today, do you?" 

Mrs. Tommy wasn't, not even one little bit. To 
tell the truth, she didn't think she'd be hungry for a 
whole day, or maybe two. 

“We must tell Mrs. Hen ‘thank you' and ‘good-by,'" 
she said, “and then skip home. Old Man Owl will be 
waking soon, and I want to cross the alley first." 

They couldn't find Mrs. Hen, for, wise mother that 
she was, she had put all her children to bed some little 
time ago. Chickens go to bed early. Maybe that's 
one reason why they grow so fast, who knows? 

“Never mind," said Tommy, when they couldn't 
find Mrs. Hen, “we'll run over soon and thank her." 

So the two little mice skipper-scampered home as fast 
as they could, across the wide, bare alley, from flower 
bed to flower bed, to the door of their own dear home. 

“You stay and talk to Foxy, if you like," said Mrs. 
Tommy, “while I run in and see that everything is 
ready for the night." 


TOMMTS VISITORS 


17 


But in a whisk of her tail she was back again, crouch- 
ing by Tommy at the doorway. 

“Tommy,’’ she whispered breathlessly, “come quickly! 
Somebody’s sleeping in our house!” 

“Fiddlesticks!” laughed Tommy. “ Nobody ’d come 
to sleep in our house — every one knows it ’s ours. And 
anyway, it’s all right if somebody is there.” 

“But, Tommy,” insisted Mrs. Tommy, “I don’t 
know who this is. It’s two folks. And they’re dark 
and silky, and they’re hanging up against the wall at 
the back of the living room, they are.” 

Poor Tommy! He thought his little mate must have 
eaten so much corn that she couldn’t see straight. 
Who ever heard of dark, silky creatures hanging on a 
living-room wall? Any person with sense would know 
no one would do such a thing. Silly ! But just to humor 
his little mate he went back to look. 

And there, sure enough, hanging on the living-room 
wall, were two dark, silky looking creatures, apparently 
sound asleep. Did a mouse ever hear of such a strange 
happening? Certainly Tommy never had! 

“Good evening. Tommy,” said a soft little voice, “I 
thought you’d be coming home some time.” And as 
he said that, one of the creatures unhooked one claw 
from the living-room wall and unwrinkled a silky. 


2 


18 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


beautiful wing, waving it gently as though to make 
sure it was rested and ready for use. 

‘‘He called me Tommy,” thought the little mouse to 
himself hastily, “and he seems to know this is my house. 
Now he can’t be an enemy, but who in the world is he?” 

Out loud he said politely, “Yes, you may be sure we 
would come home sometime. Have you been here long? ” 
“Only since morning,” replied the visitor, as though 
that was a very short time. “We were looking for a 
nice dark place to sleep and we found this. We’re so 
tired of trees and barns! A change is good sometimes. 
I guess, if you don’t mind, we’ll live here a while.” 
And to Tommy’s dismay, the other creature, too, began 
to wake up and to make signs of feeling at home. Who 
were these folks who had moved in? And how long 
were they likely to stay? Tommy would like to know. 



TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN 
TT'S A very queer feeling to come into your own 
house and find some one staying there — some one 
who seems to be quite at home and who is quite settled 
and comfortable, and whose name, even, you don't 
know. Tommy felt strange as he saw the two visitors 
unfurl their queer wings, stretch, and look about the 
dim living room in his dear log home, while all the time 
he was wondering who in the world they might be. 

There wasn't much time left for wondering, either, 
for night time was coming fast and it would n't be long 
before Tommy and his little mate would want to be 
tucked in tight in their cozy nest way back in the darkest 
comer of their home. So Tommy plucked up every bit 
of courage he had ready to ask a question. 

‘Hf you don't mind," he said politely, '‘will you please 
tell me who you are?" 

"Who I am?" asked the visitor in amazement. 
"Don't you know your own relative?" 

Tommy was much mortified, for even mice really 
might be expected to know their own relatives, he felt 
sure of that. But all the same he didn't know his 
visitor, and there was no use pretending. 

19 


20 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


very, very sorry,'' he said humbly, '‘but truly 
I don't know you. I didn't even know I had any 
relatives, unless, perhaps, that old gray rat over in the 
neighbor's barn is a connection of mine. Mr. Garden 
Toad says he must be, but I 've never been very proud 
to claim him, for he has such bad manners." 

"I don’t wonder at that," replied the unknown rela- 
tive kindly. " I don't like him myself. I 've heard 
he's a greedy, bad-mannered thief. But you won't be 
ashamed of us. We're your cousins, the Bat family. 
I'm Bingy, Bingy Bat, if you please." 

"Bingy Bat!" exclaimed Mrs. Tommy, who seemed 
to feel that if these folks were relatives she might as 
well begin talking herself. "Why, I thought bats were 
queer folks who fly around in the evening." 

"So we are," admitted Bingy. "Being queer does n't 
keep us from being relatives. Lots of relatives are 
queer. And we do fly around in the evening.” 

"But we mice don't have any wings to fly with," 
insisted Mrs. Tommy. "I don't see how you can be 
related to us mice and have wings like a bird." 

Now all the time the mice and bat had been talking the 
outside world had been getting dimmer and dimmer, day 
creatures were all safely in their homes, sound asleep — 
all but the Tittlemice. And they were in their home. 


TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN 


21 



We're your cousins, the Bat family 


to be sure, but a long, long way from being asleep. And 
the dimmer and dimmer the living room of Tommy's 
house grew, the more and more wide awake the two 
visitor bats seemed to get, just as though they liked the 
dark better than the light. Finally, just as Mrs. Tommy 
spoke about wings, Bingy unfurled his right wing, shook 
it gently, then hooked himself up by a sharp claw right 
where his thumb ought to be, and loosened the left 
wing and gave it a gentle shake. 

“I do declare!" he said half to himself, “it feels good 
to wake up in the evening. Wings!" he added, noticing 


22 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


Mrs. Tommy’s remark. “Oh, we don’t have wings with 
feathers like birds have, to be sure! We should n’t know 
what to do with feathers; they take up so much room. 
But we do have wings — dainty, silky wings. See?’’ 

He spread out a great graceful wing for Mrs. Tommy 
to see. She and Tommy looked at it carefully. It was 
pretty, there was no doubt of that. Fine, tiny bones, 
as small and as tough as wires stretched out to make a 
framework. Over this was laid a soft, dark skin, silky 
and smooth and strong. That was the bat’s wing. 

“Aren’t they pretty?’’ asked Bingy proudly. 

“And you should see how fast we can fly,” added 
Mrs. Bingy, who by this time was wide awake and 
stretching her wings, too. “Not even birds can dart 
as swiftly as we can or change their direction so quickly. 
Though sometimes we do miss it,” she added. 

“That means a story,” suggested Tommy hopefully. 
“I just know it does.” 

“Weil, yes,” admitted Bingy sheepishly. “It’s the 
story of how I got my name.” 

“I just knew there was a story about that,” said Mrs. 
Tommy happily. “Folks don’t have a queer name like 
Bingy without a story. I’m sure. Now tell us.” 

Bingy hooked himself up by two hooks instead of one, 
so he could be perfectly comfortable, and then he began. 


TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN 


23 


“Once upon a time I did n’t have any name,” he said, 
“only just, of course, my family name. Bat, but there 
were so many bats that the name Bat didn’t count 
very much. Then one night after I had learned to fly 
very well some of us were exploring around to see what 
we could see. We flew here and there and everywhere, 
all over the woods and garden, till suddenly, right before 
me, I saw a great big house. Oh, but it was big and 
black! And right in the center was a great big white 
eye. I knew it was an eye because it was so bright 
and staring in the darkness all around the house. But 
some of the older bats said it was a window with a 
light inside, and that I shouldn’t go near. I thought 
them silly folks, and straight for that bright eye I flew. 
I meant to find out all about it. But, the closer I got 
to that bright thing the less I could see. Some folks say 
we are blind, we bats. Of course we’re not. We have 
eyes that see much as you do. But bright lights make 
us seem blind, for they dazzle us so we can’t see. 

“If I could have seen, I should have found out that 
the older bat was right — the queer, bright thing really 
was a window. But I could n’t see for the brightness. 
So I flew at it, hard and straight, till — bingi — I hit it 
hard as could be, and hurt myself, too, I must say!” 

“But what happened next?” asked Tommy. 


24 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 



The older bat was right, the queer, bright thing really was a window 


‘‘Oh, that's about all," replied the bat good-naturedly. 
“I picked myself up — no bones broken — and flew back 
into the night to find my friends. They teased me a 
lot for not knowing a window when I saw it, and ever 
since have called me ‘Bingy' because of the noise 
I made hitting that window glass. But I must say 
that I’m not the only bat that has made the same 
mistake." 

“Is n’t it about time we started out for some supper?" 
suggested Mrs. Bingy. “We can tell stories some other 
time, and I’m nearly starved." 



TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN 


25 


‘‘If you Ye hungry, Til tell you just where to go,'' 
suggested Tommy generously. “Across the alley lives 
Mrs. Hen, and in her chicken house you'll find piles and 
piles of beautiful yellow corn all ready for eating." 

“Ho, ho!" laughed the bat good-naturedly, “that's 
a joke on you. Tommy. Bats don't eat com. We 
haven't the kind of teeth to chew corn with. Now 
with your fine, sharp teeth, com is just right. But we 
eat bugs — all sort of insects — and our teeth are made 
for that kind of food." 

“And a good thing it is, too," added Mrs. Bingy, 
“for if we didn't work hard every night of our lives, 
there would be so many dangerous insects about that 
the flower beds and the trees and the lawns and the 
whole garden would be eaten up; it really would." 

“But how do you catch insects?" asked Tommy 
curiously. “They always seem to go so very fast." 

“To be sure they do," laughed the bat, “only we can 
go faster. Just you watch us when we get outside. 
We're clumsy and slow in here, maybe, while you dart 
about as fast as you please. But just let us get out of 
doors in the twilight and we can dart here and there in 
the air faster than you can go on the ground."" 

“And instead of talking here all night," interrupted 
Mrs. Bingy, “we must start working." 


26 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


‘'Then Til show you a nice place/' suggested Tommy. 
“Just follow me and I'll take you to the pansy bed." 

Tommy darted to the door even before Bingy had 
a chance to say that he could look after himself very 
well, thank you. But Tommy went no farther than 
the door. For just as he reached there he had a warning. 

From outside, by the big log on the side away from 
the osage orange hedge, came a loud cry. 

“Lie low! Lie low! Lie low!" a voice said. 

“That's for you," said Bingy, who seemed to under- 
stand. “Excuse us, please, and we'll fly along." And 
out of the little log home he darted, with his mate 
following close behind. 

The watcher who had shouted, thinking his warning 
hadn't been understood, shouted again. 

“Lie low! Lie low! Lie low! Low! Low!" 

Clear up to the doorway of his home little Tommy 
Tittlemouse crept. It wasn't fair not to tell such a 
good friend what had happened. 

“Friend Cricket," he whispered, “this is Tommy." 

“Lie low! Lie low! Lie low!" answered the cricket 
sharply. “Owl's out! Owl's out! Owl's out!" 

“Thank you for warning me in time," whispered 
Tommy gratefully. “When you called, I was just going 
to show my cousins the pansy bed." 



28 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


''And goodness knows what might have happened 
then/' squeaked Mrs. Tommy in terror, "if you had n’t 
called just at that minute. In this darkness an owl 
could snoop around and have a poor little mouse eaten 
up before any one would know what had happened. 
You’re surely a good friend to have,” said Mrs. Tommy 
proudly. "I feel so safe when I know you are around.” 

The cricket started to answer, for he liked to talk to 
the friendly little mice. But just then he saw a shadow 
dart to the osage orange hedge close by — only a dark 
shadow, but the cricket knew that shadow really was 
Old Man Owl hidden by the heavy foliage of the trees. 

"Lie low! Lie low!” he chirped. “Lie low!” 

The two little mice were frightened to death. Never 
before had the owl been so close. And they couldn’t 
see him, that was the worst of it. Things one cannot 
see always do seem much worse than things that are in 
plain sight, as we very well know. The mice didn’t 
dare go back to their nest. They hardly dared breathe. 
They just crouched down close in the shadow of the 
doorway and there they stayed without a sound or a 
move. 

Then soon there was a soft whirr from the osage orange 
hedge over toward the pine tree. But Tommy did n’t 
venture to move even then. He wanted to make sure. 


TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN 29 



‘‘Lie low! Lie low! Lie low!'’ advised the cricke- 
softly. So the mice kept still. 

Then presently from the pine tree came the soft, 
mournful call of the owl. “Who-o-o? Who-o-o? 
who-o-o-o-o-o-o? " 

Tommy hadn't an idea whom the owl was calling. 
But he knew the old fellow had gone from the hedge 
and that he and his mate were safe. So, softly and 
carefully, they crept back into bed. Wasn't it fine 
to have a nice dark, safe home to stay in? And 
weren't they lucky to have had such a fine day? 
And — 

But before Tommy could even think of any more 
nice things he was fast asleep. 


TOMMY MEETS THE TEENY-TINY ANTS 

I GUESS ril fly over and see what Tommy is doing/' 
said Billy Robin to himself the next afternoon. 
haven't visited with Tommy for a long time." 

He flew over near the pansy bed and then hopped 
three big, robin sort of hops that planted him squarely 
in front of the log in which Mr. and Mrs. Tommy Tittle- 
mouse lived. Billy was very much pleased to see that 
Tommy was right there in the doorway of his home, so 
he promptly said, ‘'Good afternoon." 

Tommy did n’t answer. 

“Now that's a funny thing," said Billy, much puzzled. 
“That is n't like Tommy not to hear a friend. I wonder 
if something has happened. I guess I'd better see." 

So he hopped another hop, a little hop, for he was 
already so close there wasn’t room for a big hop. 

**Good afternoon. Tommy," he said, in his loudest, 
cheerfulest voice. “How are you this fine afternoon?" 

“Goodness! What a start you did give me, Billy!" 
exclaimed Tommy. 

“I'm not at all comfortable," he added, replying to 
Billy's question, “and I hadn't noticed that it was a 
fine afternoon." 


30 


TOMMY MEETS THE TEENY-TINY ANTS 31 



‘'Goodness! What a start you did give me, Billy !” 


'' Dear me ! cried Billy. '' Had n’t noticed — you must 
be in trouble! What’s the matter? Can I help you?” 

don’t know,” replied Tommy. ‘‘You see, it’s 
this way,” and then he told Billy all about it. 

That morning after the bats had come home and 
gone to sleep — for the bat cousins were still living in 
the old log — Tommy had gone out for his breakfast 
and Mrs. Tommy had stayed inside to work on the 
passage she was making to the other end of the log. She 
had v;orked hard and when she finished the work on the 
passage, she had cleaned up the whole living room. 


32 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


''There wasn't a speck anywhere," interrupted 
Mrs. Tommy when Tommy reached that point in the 
story. 

"And then she went out for her luncheon," continued 
Tommy, "and found me. We played around a while, 
then she asked me to come and see how she had fixed 
the passage, and I did. And just look what I saw!" 

Billy craned his neck and tried to see something 
startling, but not a thing could be seen — not a thing. 
Of course his eyes were n't made for looking into dark 
logs, as Tommy's were, and that made some difference. 

"Well, wasn't everything all right?" he asked, for 
it was plain Tommy expected him to say something. 

"All right?" demanded Tommy, "indeed not. Just 
look at that!" 

Billy looked again and, now that his eyes had become 
more used to looking into the dark log, he saw a nice big 
crumb just inside the doorway of Tommy's house. 

" It 's a crumb," said Billy. " Is n't it a good crumb? " 

" It may be good or bad, for all I care," replied Tommy. 
"It probably was dropped by the little girl who comes 
into the garden sometimes to eat her bread and butter. 
But she did n't drop it in my log. Who did? How did 
it get in my house? Who's been making crumbs in my 
doorway, that's what I want to know." 


TOMMY MEETS THE TEENY-TINY ANTS 33 

‘‘Oh, I see,'' said Billy, suddenly understanding. 
“You don't mind the crumb, but you do want to know 
how it got there. Well, probably an ant put it there." 

“An ant!" exclaimed Tommy. “One of those little 
creatures couldn't carry a crumb as big as that." 

“It's plain you don't know much about ants," laughed 
Billy. “You should use your eyes for something besides 
com and cats. Tommy Tittlemouse. 

“That crumb was very likely dropped outside of 
your doorway. There some ant found it and tried to 
take it home to his city. It is rather a big load, so likely 
the ant has gone for help. And for fear somebody else 
might eat up the crumb while he was gone, the ant 
managed to carry it into the shelter of your doorway. 

“If you sit very still, no doubt you'll soon see three 
or four ants coming back and you can watch them roll 
that crumb off to their city. 

“ I 'd eat it up myself," added Billy; “ for I like crumbs. 
But I 'll leave it and you see if I am not right." 

“My, how much you do know, Billy!" exclaimed Mrs. 
Tommy, much impressed with Billy's learning. 

That made Billy feel very happy. 

“Oh, thank you," he said with becoming modesty, 
“no more than a robin should know, though. And 
now I guess I'll fly away and get my afternoon tea." 


3 







A procession of four little ants rolled the crumb over and over 

up to the door sill 


TOMMY MEETS THE TEENY-TINY ANTS 35 

Before Tommy could beg him to stay and tell more 
about ants, Billy was gone. 

But the two little mice took his advice. They hid 
in the shadowy corner of the living room and waited. 

Before very long, one little ant appeared over the 
doorsill, and then another and another and another till 
a procession of four little ants paraded up to that crumb. 
They managed some way to roll the crumb over and over 
till it was up to the sill, over the sill, down the little 
dope to the grass, over the grass to the comer of the log, 
and there it slipped out of sight down a hole. Tommy 
saw, for he crept behind the ants and watched. 

‘‘Well, if that isn’t the queerest thing!” he said to 
Mrs. Tommy as they watched the four ants, one after 
the other, slip down the hole behind the cmmb. “Do 
you suppose they have been getting food like that all 
the time and we never noticed?” 

Mrs. Tommy thought a minute. 

“I expect they have,” she finally decided. “I seem 
to remember seeing ants around, and surely they must 
have to eat something — everybody does. Though I 
must say I never thought of it before.” 

“Nor I,” admitted Tommy. “I wish I knew more 
about them. I wonder whom we could ask?” 

“Mrs. Spider?” suggested Mrs. Tommy. 


36 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


‘'Perhaps we'd better not," said Tommy thought- 
fully. “Maybe spiders eat ants or ants eat spiders — 
you never can tell about those insect folks. Let's ask 
Mr. Garden Toad. He always sits still and sees things. 

But just as they ran out of their doorway to find Mr. 
Garden Toad, whom should they see but Mr. Snail 
peeking out of his shell just as friendly as you please. 

“May you always have plenty to eat," said the snail 
politely. 

“Thank you very much," said Tommy, “that's a 
nice wish. And we'll be getting our supper in a few 
minutes. But first we want to learn something about 
ants. Can you tell us?" 

“Ants?" asked the snail. “You mean the little ants 
who live in the city just around your log?" 

“I mean the ants who live there," replied Tommy, 
“but I don't know anything about a city. I never 
heard of such a thing as a city by our log." 

“Then it's plain to see you don't know much about 
ants," laughed the snail. “If you'll let me draw my 
house up close to the shelter of your doorway where 
I'll not be likely to be seen, I can tell you about your 
neighbors." 

The mice said not a word while the careful snail 
pulled his dainty little house close up into the shadow 


TOMMY MEETS THE TEENY-TINY ANTS 37 



They saw Mr. Snail peeking out of his shell as friendly as you please 


of the log. Then very carefully he pushed his house 
back, back, till he could see out very comfortably. 

'‘There,'' he said, “that's safer. Now about those 
ants — they all live together in the city under the ground. 

“And I must say they are good citizens. I never 
heard an ant quarrel or say an unkind word to any 
member of his family or even to anybody who lives in 
his city. That's a very good record, seems to me." 

“Dear me," said Tommy, “I should say it is!" 

“And then," continued the snail, “they all work 
very hard. That's why they are sometimes called 
'Worker Ants' — they work from morning till night and 


38 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


seem to love it. Oh, to be sure, there are a few who 
never do a thing, not a single thing. But they soon 
starve to death and nobody minds. Serves them right, 
the lazy things! The ants are far too busy to bother 
with feeding great lazy ants who won't work." 

‘‘But you talk all the time about working," said Mrs. 
Tommy, who was somewhat of a worker herself. ‘'What 
do they find to do all the time? They just have a little 
house in the ground, and they can't eat much food, 
they're so tiny. I don't see what they find to do." 

“Well, you don't know much," laughed the snail. 
“There's plenty to do and more. First there is their 
city to make and care for. And such a city it is! Long 
passages, galleries and galleries all to be made and kept 
clean and in repair, to say nothing of guarding the city 
every minute against attacking ants from some other 
city. 

“And then think of all the ant babies," continued 
the snail, “thousands of ant babies all to be fed and 
washed and tended, for ant babies are very helpless 
little things, and not only must be tended and fed but 
must be moved every time the nursery gets too hot 
or too cold, and must be helped out of their cradles just 
the very minute they happen to be big enough to want 
to get out. Oh, it's a big job those ant nurses have!" 











1 ^ 




“Well, you don't know much,” laughed the snail 


40 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


‘‘What do they eat?'' asked Tommy. Food was an 
interesting subject, especially near supper time. 

“That I don't know," said the snail. “Oh, to be 
sure, they eat crumbs when they can get them. But I 
know they eat something else, something that looks 
like honey, and they like it very much. Many a time 
I have seen them carrying it into their city. But what 
it is and where they get it, I don't know. Perhaps 
Mr. Garden Toad knows." 

Tommy started to say, “We'll run right over and ask 
him," when he happened to notice how late it was. 
He had been having such a good time visiting and learn- 
ing that he hadn't noticed the sun slipping off to bed 
and the twilight spreading over the sky. If he was to 
have any supper he would have to hurry, for soon the 
Old man Owl would be snooping about and the garden 
would be no place for a mouse. 

So he thanked the snail and resolved to hunt up the 
garden toad first thing in the morning. 



IS MR. GARDEN TOAD REALLY LAZY? 

TI> RIGHT and early next morning the two Tittlemice 
were up and stirring. They wanted to get break- 
fast over and tidy the house in a jiffy so they could 
have a good long day for talking to the garden toad. 

But their hurry did n't do them much good, for when 
they reached the zinnia bed where the toad very often 
slept he was still sleeping soundly. Of course they 
were too polite to waken him, and there they had to stay, 
till Mr. Garden Toad waked up. 

‘‘Well, well, well!" he said pleasantly when he spied 
his visitors. “Just see who's come to call on me this 
morning. Now what can I do for you today?" 

For he very well knew, wise old toad that he was, 
that no two mice would have come to visit him and 
would have waited around till he waked up unless they 
wanted something. 

“ You can tell us what ants eat," said Tommy promptly. 

“I can, I can, I can," croaked the toad, “you're right, 
I can. But whatever in the world made you want to 
know what ants eat? Tell me that! Tell me that!" 

So Tommy told him all about finding the crumb in 
their doorway, about seeing the four ants roll it around 
41 


42 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 



the comer and into a hole in the ground, and about all 
the snail had told them of the ants. 

''And very right Mr. Snail was,'' said the toad, when 
Tommy had finished. "Very right, very right. That 
little snail is wise. He tells what he knows and nothing 
more, nothing more. A very wise plan is that, very." 

"But I don't care to settle down for a talk here in 
the zinnia bed," added the toad. "It's well enough 
to sleep here, but for daytime I prefer to sit in the sun." 

"But we can't sit out in the sun," objected Mrs. 
Tommy. "Somebody might come by and eat us up." 


IS MR. GARDEN TOAD REALLY LAZY? 43 

'‘That would never do, never do, never do,'' agreed 
the toad thoughtfully. 

"Suppose I sit here by the big stone," he suggested. 
"It will warm my back and keep off the breezes, and 
I shall be right in the hot sun. Then you can snuggle 
down under the nasturtium leaves, and you can hear 
all I say and nobody will ever guess you are near." 

So the mice slipped, one at a time, over to the nas- 
turtium border, and the toad hopped over in front of 
the big stone. And true enough, just as the toad had 
said, nobody ever in the world would have guessed that 
the sleepy-looking old toad had visitors. 

"There now, there now," said the toad, when they 
were all settled nicely, "you want to know what the 
ants eat, what they eat." 

Tommy squeaked, "Yes." To tell the truth the 
toad's habit of saying words over and over bothered 
him sometimes. But everybody knows that's just one 
of the toad's habits and one has to get used to it. Say- 
ing things over and over does give the old fellow more 
time to think, that's true, and maybe that is Tiow he 
happens to be thought so very wise. 

"Ants eat honey," said the toad, "sweet honey. 
And it's so good that no wonder they like it very well, 
very well." 


44 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


Then he went on to tell the two mice all about the 
ants having cows — not really truly big cows like folks 
have, but tiny little green creatures called aphids, which 
are ant cows. These aphids live on green plants. 
Tommy recalled having seen them on pansy plants or 
in the rose garden, though of course he never even 
wondered what they were or what they did. 

The ants take care of these little aphids — take them 
from plant to plant so they can make the sweetest 
honey. And then they stroke them gently and get 
tiny drops of sweetest honey from the little creatures. 
Some of this honey the ants eat right away; some they 
carry home and feed to the ant babies in the nurseries 
in the ant city. 

Tommy was so surprised he could hardly believe 
what the toad said. Ants having cows, ants eating 
honey, ants carrying food home to babies just as mice 
and squirrels do! If Tommy had nT known Mr. Garden 
Toad was an honest old fellow who always told the 
truth, he would have had hard work to believe his 
own ears. 

While the mice were listening and the toad was talk- 
ing, Tommy noticed two buzzing flies going round and 
round in the sunshine right over Mr. Garden Toad's 
head. 


IS MR. GARDEN TOAD REALLY LAZY? 


45 



‘'Better watch out/' remarked one fly. “Can't you 
see that toad sitting right there?" 

“Yes, I see him," laughed the fly foolishly, “but I'm 
not afraid of a toad, great fat, lazy thing! He never 
could catch me.'' 

“My, my! What a silly way to talk," thought 
Tommy. “I wonder what the toad will do? That 
silly little fly ought to watch out." 

Tommy watched the toad carefully, but not a sign 
could he see that the toad had heard the fly. He just 
sat there as still as still. And if he opened his mouth 


46 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


a crack — well, who doesn't open his mouth once in 
a while? 

Tommy looked up at the flies again and he could 
hardly believe his eyes! Only one fly was buzzing 
around in the sunshine over the old toad's head. And 
that one fly was hunting and buzzing and calling for 
his partner. But no partner answered. 

Tommy was about to ask the toad where the fly had 
gone when the old toad opened his mouth — Tommy 
thought, to say something more about the ants. 

But no, the toad must have changed his mind, for he 
said no word. So Tommy looked up again at the one 
lone fly. But there was n't any fly at all. It was 
certainly most mysterious. 

“Now, let's see," said Mr. Garden Toad, “we were 
talking about the ants" — just that way, as though he 
had been thinking about something else. 

Before Tommy could answer he spied two buzzing 
gnats whirling in the air right over the toad's head. 

“Now I'm going to watch those gnats," thought 
Tommy. “I've heard that toads eat flies and gnats, 
but of course they don't. Lazy Mr. Garden Toad never 
in the world could catch a swift-moving little creature 
like one of those gnats. I may not know much about 
ants, but I do know that much about toads." 


IS MR. GARDEN TOAD REALLY LAZY? 


47 



Tommy watched the gnats carefully — till suddenly 
they weren't there. First they were flying around in 
the sun gaily, and then all at once they weren't, 
though Tommy was certain he would have seen them 
if they had flown away. It was very puzzling. 

But the toad was talking. 

‘‘Is there anything more about ants that you would 
like to ask me. Tommy?" he was saying kindly. 

“Er-r, why, er-r," began Tommy, but for the life 
of him he could n't think of a thing to say. For he had 
been thinking so hard about those flies and gnats and 


48 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 



about where they all mysteriously disappeared so sud- 
denly, that he couldn't recall what the toad had told 
him about ants or where they left off talking. 

“You're not listening, not listening, not listening," 
croaked the toad. 

Mrs. Tommy looked at her little mate in distress. 
What could be the matter? Here they had waited all 
night to ask about the ants. They had found the toad 
and had been greeted kindly with all the information 
they could ask for. And Tommy was n't polite enough 
to listen. She was so ashamed she could n't speak. 


IS MR. GARDEN TOAD REALLY LAZY? 49 

But the toad did n't seem to think Tommy had done 
any very dreadful thing. Wise old fellow that he was, 
he seemed to understand that Tommy must have got 
to thinking about something else, something even more 
important or interesting than ants and their queer ways. 

Much to Mrs. Tommy's relief, Billy Robin alighted 
on the gravel walk close by and called good morning. 

‘‘How you ever stand it to sit there all morning and 
never eat a bite," he said, “is more than I can see. You 
just sit and sit and sit. And yet you get fatter every 
day of your life. Why don't you stir around and get 
some exercise?" 

“Exercise!" croaked the toad. “What do I want 
with that?" 

“Well, it would give you an appetite," retorted Billy, 
“and you could hurry around and get food." 

“Listen to him, listen to him, listen to him," laughed 
the toad. “I'm hungry all the time. If T was any 
hungrier I couldn't stand it." 

Tommy, hidden under the nasturtiums, stared, and 
Billy stopped hunting worms and looked at the toad 
in amazement. 

“If you're hungry," said Billy, “why don't you 
hustle around and get food? I'd never sit and do 
nothing if I was hungry, not I." 


4 



Billy Robin was so surprised he stopped squarely and looked 
at the toad 



IS MR. GARDEN TOAD REALLY LAZY? 51 

‘‘Nor do I, nor do I,” replied the toad. “I sit and 
work all the day long. A nice garden this would be, all 
overrun with lazy, troublesome insects, if I hopped 
around as you tell me to. A lot of food Fd get if I 
hopped around and scared away the flies and bugs. 
My, how much you folks do know!’' 

Billy Robin was so surprised he stopped squarely 
and looked at the toad, while Tommy almost forgot 
to look for danger, he wanted so much to get out where 
he could hear every word. 

“You folks talk as though I sat here just because 
I’m lazy,” said the toad scornfully. “I sit here because 
I’m working, I’m working all the day, all the day, 
all the day. Since you’ve been here, Billy, I’ve eaten 
three flies and four gnats, though I venture to say 
you’ve seen not a one, not a one, not a one.” 

“Just since we’ve been talking?” exclaimed Billy. 

“Just since we’ve been talking, talking, talking,” 
answered the toad. 

“Then you certainly are a wonderful creature,” 
said Billy with vim, while Tommy echoed in his mind 
the same thought. 

“Would you tell us how you do it?” asked Billy. 

“I sit still, just so still,” said the toad, “so still you 
all think I’m lazy. Then when some insect I want 


52 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


comes near, I dart out my quick-moving tongue and 
before that creature knows Tm awake, he’s all eaten 
up, eaten up, eaten up.” 

'‘Then you really are working hard when you seem to 
be sitting in the sun.” said Tommy. 

"To be sure, to be sure, to be sure,” replied the toad, 
"and if I do say it who shouldn’t. I’m a very useful 
person. Think how overrun the garden would be with 
silly, harmful insects if I went hopping about giving 
them a chance to get out of my way. Things are n’t 
always what they seem,” said the toad, "not always 
what they seem.” 

"Right you are, Mr. Garden Toad,” said Billy. 

"I’m so glad I came this morning,” said Tommy. 

"So am I,” added Mrs. Tommy, "only now I must 
go and attend to some work.” 

And before Tommy could ask her what the work 
was or where, she was gone. 



PLANS FOR THE WINTER 

I N THE garden days and days passed, each day a 
little shorter than the one before. 

The leaves and flowers changed, too. Blossoms were 
scarcer. Only the chrysanthemums had many buds, 
and every one knows chrysanthemums bloom almost 
till Thanksgiving, snow or no snow. Blossoms changed 
to seed pods, and every time the wind blew hard, dozens 
of tiny seeds rattled down in the pansy bed, the zinnia 
bed, and among the withered poppy stalks. 

“What you going to do this winter. Tommy?” asked 
Billy Robin one fine crisp morning as he hunted over 
the dried-up garden for a worm for his breakfast. 

“Stay in the log, to be sure,” replied Tommy promptly, 
without a minute's thought. “Where do you stay?” 

“I don't think I'll stay,” replied Billy thoughtfully. 
“Some of my family do, and I hear they get along very 
well. But cold and snow and winds don't sound very 
good to me. I always fly to the South. There it's 
warm and sunny and there is plenty of food. And 
anyway, I like the journey. I like to see the world.” 

“But you won't go away for good, will you, Billy?” 
asked Tommy in distress. 


53 


54 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 



” Maybe we ought to move back into the cellar" 


“I should say not/' answered Billy. ‘'I love this 
garden as well as you do. I'll be back next spring. 
But never you mind," he added, as he saw Tommy 
looking so very sorrowful, ‘‘I haven't gone yet. I'll 
tell you good-by before I go, never fear." And he flew 
away to find more food. 

Left to himself, Tommy began to think about winter. 
What had he and his mate better do? When he told 
Billy that he would stay in the old log, he had spoken 
hastily, for he had never really thought about winter 
and what plans he should make. He must talk it over 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 


55 


with Mrs. Tommy and they must decide, so as not 
to be caught napping. 

At the very same time that Tommy and Billy were 
talking, Mrs. Tommy back in the log home, was think- 
ing of the same thing. 

Tommy had no more than slipped out of the front 
door of the house early that morning before Bingy Bat 
fluttered in. 

“That’s about my last trip for food,” he said to him- 
self as he fluttered over to the darkest comer and hung 
himself up. “It’s getting far too cold for comfort. 
I’ll soon say good-by for the winter.” And before 
Mrs. Tommy could get over her surprise enough to ask 
a question, he was sound asleep. 

Pretty soon Tommy came in, all excited and wonder- 
ing about the winter. 

“Bingy Bat’s going somewhere,” said Mrs. Tommy. 
“At any rate he said something about saying good-by.” 

“And Billy Robin’s going down South,” said Tommy. 
“He told me so. I wonder if the garden isn’t a good 
place to stay in winter. Maybe we ought to move 
back into the cellar for a while.” 

“Ugh!” cried Mrs. Tommy with a shiver, “don’t Siay 
cellar to me. I’d rather freeze than live in that cellar 
again.” 


56 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 



**This is my busy day,*' said Foxy Squirrel 


'' I wonder how warm this old log stays,” said Tommy. 
“And I wonder what food we could find in the winter. 
If we had ever lived in a garden before, we should know.” 

“What are you doing now?” he asked as he saw 
Mrs. Tommy dashing out of the front door. 

“Fm going to ask advice of all our friends,” she said. 
“And then?” asked Tommy. 

“And then I shall decide to do exactly as I please,” 
she replied. “That's the way to use advice, to be sure.” 

Tommy followed close at her heels, as she knew he 
would. Usually Tommy liked to lead, but when it 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 


57 


came to home making he was quite content to do as 
she said. 

They ran around the log, hid under some dry crackly 
leaves, and waited for some one to pass by. How long 
they did wait, too! Not much like the busy summer 
when friends ran hither and yon all day long. 

Pretty soon they spied Foxy Squirrel. 

‘‘Foxy! Foxy Squirrel!’' called Tommy. “Come 
over and talk to us. We want some advice.” 

“Sorry,” replied Foxy, “but this is my busy day. 
Didn’t you feel the frost last night? It just dropped 
acorns by the hundred, and I have to get a good supply 
put away for winter.” 

“That’s what we want to talk to you about,” said 
Tommy, “about winter. Will you stay here? And 
what will you eat?” 

“To be sure. I’ll stay here,” said Foxy. “My little 
mate has been working these many days, and she has 
the nest all snug and tight so no storm can get in. And 
we have made and filled a big pantry full of nuts just 
over the nest so we can have plenty of food on stormy 
days. Then we are working now to bury nuts, oh, 
lots of nuts and acorns, here and there in the ground, 
so we can come out on fine days and eat those and 
not use up too soon the ones we have in the pantry.” 



"Oh, s^ood morning, Mrs. Spider,” said Mrs. Tommy 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 


59 


‘‘But how can you find the places where you have 
buried nuts?’' asked Tommy as he watched Foxy scratch 
a hole, stick in a few nuts, then scratch another and 
another hole. 

“Such a silly question!” exclaimed Foxy. “I don’t 
have to find them. I just know without hunting. It’s 
part of my business to know.” 

“Why don’t you stay where you are?” he added. 
“Haven’t you laid up food for the winter?” 

“Not a bit,” said Tommy, much ashamed. “We 
never thought about it.” 

“Well, well,” said Foxy, “you’d better get at it.” 
And he hurried off to go on with his work. 

While the mice were looking after Foxy a long silken 
thread blew across the leaves in front of them and, at 
the end of the thread, they saw Mrs. Spider spinning 
as busily as possible. 

“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Spider,” said Mrs. Tommy, 
“can you tell us how to spend the winter?” 

“You’ve come to the right person this time,” answered 
Mrs. Spider cordially. “There is only one safe, good 
way to spend a winter. Do as I do. I roll myself 
into a tight little ball, cover myself with a silky water- 
proof covering, and hide under the shelter of some 
leaves. That’s the way to spend a winter.” 


60 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


Without waiting for further talk Mrs. Spider said, 
‘‘But you'll have to excuse me. This is my busy day 
and I can't visit any more." 

“Something tells me that I shouldn't like being 
rolled up in a ball all winter," said Mrs. Tommy thought- 
fully, “and even if I wanted to, I should n't know how 
to spin a silky waterproof covering. I don't believe 
Mrs. Spider knows much about mice." 

“I know what we ought to do," suggested Tommy 
suddenly. “Why didn't I think of it before? We 
must ask Mr. Garden Toad what he is going to do. 
He knows a lot." 

So the two little mice scurried over to where the toad 
was usually to be found. 

It took a long time to find him, and when he was 
found the poor old fellow seemed too sleepy to talk or 
think. He blinked his eyes very slowly and looked at 
his visitors. 

“Anything I can do for you. Tommy?" he asked, 
“do for you, do — for — you? I hope it won't be hard, 
my joints' are getting stiff, very— stiff, very — s-t-i-f-f." 

“Tell us what to do for winter," said Tommy. 

“You can't do anything for winter," croaked the 
toad, “I only wish you could, could — could. Winter 
just comes and stays, stays — stays." 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 


61 


‘‘Oh, I didn't mean that," laughed Tommy, “I 
meant what shall we do while winter is here. Shall 
we stay in the log? What will you do?" 

That question waked the toad up and he explained 
to the mice just where he would live. 

“See that dahlia bed back there?" he asked. “Well, 
when the folks took the bulbs out the other day, they 
left a lot of big holes. IVe fixed one round and deep 
and just to my liking. And every storm blows leaves 
and more leaves to make a covering. One of these fine 
days I shall crawl into that hole and there I shall sleep 
the long, cold winter. I tell you I need a rest, need a 
rest — need — a — rest, I do." 

Very stiffly he hopped two big hops, three little hops, 
turned over sidewise, and slipped into a hole, just to 
show the mice how it might be done. 

“So he stays right here," said Mrs. Tommy. “I 
have a notion to stay in the garden myself. But good- 
ness, this isn't getting anything to eat!" 

That was a warm, sunny day, one of the last warm 
days of the fall. When the two little mice crept home 
later, as the sun slipped down to early bedtime, the 
old log home was warm and comfortable, so warm 
and so comfortable that Bingy Bat had begun to wake 
up and stir. 


62 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 



'*0 Bingy/' cried Mrs. Tommy as she slipped in and 
saw him, ''tell me quickly, what do you do for winter?” 

Bingy Bat stretched his wings, shook himself, and 
smiled at his cousin. 

"Winter doesn’t worry me much, for I sleep all the 
time,” he answered. "Some cold morning I’ll just 
come in and hang myself up as usual, and there I’ll 
sleep the whole winter through. I won’t bother you 
at all.” 

"But how will you eat?” asked Tommy. 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 


63 


''I won’t eat,” said the bat. ‘‘I’m trying to get fat 
now, and all the long winter I’ll live on the fat I have 
under my skin.” 

“ I ’d noticed you were getting so fat you could hardly 
fly straight,” suggested Mrs. Tommy, “but I didn’t 
like to say anything about it for fear it would make 
you feel bad.” 

“Feel bad, fiddlesticks!” grumbled the bat, “when I 
work all the night to get fat! And hard work it is these 
days, too, when the frost has killed the insects and 
hardly a morsel can I And. I ’ll go out tonight because 
this day was warm and sunny. Then that will be niy 
last. Tomorrow I shall go to sleep. And how glad I 
shall be for the long winter’s rest! Good-by for the 
last time,” he said as he fluttered out of the door. 

Left by themselves, the two little mice looked at each 
other thoughtfully. Tommy did n’t like to speak first, 
because he wanted his little mate to decide. And she 
seemed to have much to think of. 

Finally she said, “Tommy, let’s stay in the old log. 
We can work real hard for a few days and bring com 
from the chicken house to have on hand during a bad 
storm. And of course if it gets too dreadfully cold, we 
can creep into the cellar. But if Bingy Bat can sleep here, 
we ought to be able to live here. And I do hate to move.” 


64 


TOMMY TITTLEMOUSE 


That suited Tommy. So the mice set to work. They 
brought cotton and soft bits to stuff up cracks to keep 
out the cold. They stored com till the passage was 
full. They made ready every way they knew. 

And all the time the days grew colder and colder, and 
more and more the creatures disappeared from the 
garden, till one morning Tommy peeked out on a snow- 
white garden. Winter had come. 

“Now we’re in for a lonesome time,” thought Tommy 
bravely. 

Funny, wasn’t it? But he never once guessed all 
the exciting adventures he and his mate would have 
before spring came again to the garden home. 










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